


The Slender Man

by ambersagen



Series: SlenderJaskier [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Basically canonical mentions of how Witchers are made, Cannibalism, Child Abandonment, Child Murder, Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Dark and whimsical, Dead dove - cannibalism, F/M, Fae Jaskier | Dandelion, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Jaskier adopts everyone, M/M, Nothing will hurt these kids, Vesemir dies, brutal deaths only vaguely described, but its fine, dead dove - secretly feeding humans humans, eventually the whole gang will be here, happy ending for the gang, less so for the people eaten, lots of people die!, not if jaskier has anything to say about it, slight crack, sorry - Freeform, this is only the begining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:00:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27273829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambersagen/pseuds/ambersagen
Summary: There are monsters up on the mountain killing children.He is Jaskier, and of all the atrocities the fae commit on each other and humanity there is one crime that he does not stand for.
Relationships: Eventually - Relationship, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Other Pairings TBD, no underage - Relationship
Series: SlenderJaskier [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1991404
Comments: 14
Kudos: 133
Collections: Wasn't Quite Expecting This (But I Loved It)





	The Slender Man

**Author's Note:**

> Happy almost Halloween! Here’s to a new wip and a soon to be NaNoWriMo of all fic all the time!

There are monsters up on the mountain killing children. 

His shadows whisper to him, ghosting along leaves fresh and rotting, stirring up insects and startling rabbits as they tell him of screaming that echoes for days, of paths that wind the mountain side and drip with the blood of little deaths. 

Jaskier stands in his forest. If human eyes could see he would appear alone, but for the tell-tale murmurings of rumors of death and torture. His whole body shudders. 

He is full of rage.

The forest is his home, his darkness absolute. Each and every fae court fear him, regardless of their season or queens. 

He is _Jaskier_ , and of all the atrocities the fae commit on each other and humanity there is one crime that he does not stand for. 

His punishment is always swift, unseen yet often announced, for what good is justice without words of warning? He is darkness, but he comes like an eclipse, sudden and terrible, and the shadows and whispers report only to him. They are his loyal subjects from every corner of every realm, human and fae, they bring secrets and rumors in their depths. Under his guidance they collect tales from every realm. 

He doesn’t remember how he became _Jaskier_. As he walks his path through his home he spares no thought for why he feels compelled as he does. Perhaps he was created for this purpose. Perhaps he once faced a similar fate before he was changed to become Jaskier. It doesn’t matter much to him in the end, but each possibility is an entertainment he has often indulged in when spinning his stories alone in the shade of his trees.

What he knows is this; His punishment and wrath is reserved for those who harm children.

He delights in devouring any and all such fae who in turn took delight in abducting and tormenting the innocent and the young. 

Not all fae eat flesh, but all fae can be eaten.

And now his whispers tell of monsters on the mountain.

He, of course, must see for himself if such monsters exist. Jaskier is nothing if not professional. (Jaskier is often nothing at all).

Even to a creature such as himself it seems a little much to believe there are really such monsters, living in a massive and militaristic keep deep in the mountains, neigh on unreachable, where they kidnap children, or take them as sacrifices to their unending bloodlust. Jaskier’s shadows insist it is so, that the monsters beat and starve the children they take. That they torment and mutilate them until they die in agony or become twisted monsters themselves.

Jaskier’s whispers claim these are hunters who seek the deaths of other monsters. His whispers are not certain as to why, but they know the mountain creatures hunt and harvest the numerous species of non humans that inhabit the human realm. Perhaps they eat them. Jaskier hopes that he does not have so much in common with the monsters on the mountain, if they do exist, but perhaps they aren’t sentient. Many dumb beasts prey on young creatures after all.

The mountain, when he arrives, is vast. 

Tall. Cold. 

There is indeed a fortress high upon its peak, and he can taste the suffering on the air. Blood keeps the stones slick just as his shadows told. The stone walls are reachable only by a narrow and deadly looking path, such as would spell doom for many simple humans. 

It matters not at all to Jaskier. All forests are his home and this mountain is no exception. He walks through the thinning treeline, his long limbs joining each tree’s shadow as he scouts out the landscape before him. A dirt path meanders its way up the less obviously treacherous hills at the bottom of the mountain. Tall grass and taller stones litter the landscape, making it a maze of many possible hidey holes and cover for prey and predators alike to dance their deadly dance. 

A child is crying somewhere up along the path. It stirs something in Jaskier, a deep agitation that both grows in intensity and yet eases as he moves silently under the shade of the trees toward the child. The sun is high in the sky, the crippling heat of summer beating down full force on the open dirt road. Jaskier slides into being at the edge of the treeline, wincing at the light as he emerges fully into the human realm. From here he can see the child, standing forlornly alone in the center of the path. 

The boy is thin and caked with dirt from the hike up, or so Jaskier assumes. He had neither seen nor felt any settlements besides the old fortress on the mountain, and he wondered how such a young boy ended up alone in such an empty place.

Clearly the boy was wondering the same thing. Jaskier felt his arms twitch with the urge to hold, and rage began again to boil in his chest as he watched the child cast about this way and that, calling out for a mother that was so long gone that not even Jaskier’s shadows could detect her. Suspicious, to say the least. Even if the mother had suddenly and mysteriously perished his shadows would have known and brought news of her death. The whispers told of eddies in the chaos and hinted that this boy was one of the abandoned sacrifices. Assuredly he had been left here on purpose by some sorceress long gone. 

They could not tell him why this was so, but they did however, alert him to the monster rapidly approaching from further up the path.

Time ran differently in the human realm than Jaskier was used to, yet even as fast as human time flew by for the fae Jaskier was even faster. Quicker than the unaided eye could follow he moved, scooping up the crying child in one gentle motion as he called for his shadows to cloak them from the burning sun. The child didn’t even have time to gasp before he was safely deposited deep in the cool darkness of the forest, which bent its trees enthusiastically to Jaskier’s will. 

He would let no more harm come to this child at least. 

With a soft kiss to chestnut hair, and a brief humming melody to sooth the child into resting his red and tired eyes, Jaskier sternly ordered the whispers to watch the child for a moment. He trusted them to lead the child to the nearby stream to refresh himself should he rouse from his doze before Jaskier concluded his business with the monsters of the mountain, and his shadows could fetch him faster than a scream should anything disturb the boy.

The boy had gone limp with slumber at the sound of his melody, and Jaskier couldn’t help but linger a moment, reaching out to brush the hair away from the child’s face as he tucked him away in a moss covered corner of his home. But he couldn’t pause forever, not if he wanted to resolve this monster question.

As he moved back up the path he idly wondered if the monster he hunted would be worthy of the fight.

He knew his form in the human realm was underwhelming compared to some of his kin in the summer and winter courts. But he was tall, much taller than the average human at least. And he knew there was something about himself that unsettled most of the humans he had encountered, something that unhinged their minds to the point of madness. It was, perhaps, the darkness that was as much a part of him as blood was to most living creatures. He knew it wasn’t anything as mundane as the grotesque horror of the fae. He did not cover himself in viscera, and barring a few extra arms of...questionable species, he wasn’t even particularly animal or inhuman in appearance. Besides that he did have a fondness for silks and subtle sparkle. Nothing that would dazzle the senses, yet his clothing, such as it was, appeared unmistakably rich in quality and was eye catching in its own way.

Should the monster ahead of him attempt to eat him, well. Perhaps he would eat the monster back. It had been a while since the last time he fed, and that had been a waif-like and sniveling little summer court fae. It was all the rage currently to look like some sort of mortal plague victim, and he missed the time when courts embraced the soft curves of wealth and plenty. It made meal time much more enjoyable when his prey had a little meat on their bones.

He entertained himself with memories of hot blood in his mouth as he caught sight of his so-called monster, at last laying eyes on the surprising innocuous creature.

The monster walked before him, unaware that its every step was under surveillance. 

“Where the hell did the kid get off to?” the monster muttered, keen eyes that shown an inhuman yellow sweeping the path ahead methodically, yet skipping right over Jaskier and his patch of seething, furious shadows like nothing was there. To be fair to the monster, though his shadows certainly didn’t want to be fair, Jaskier truly wasn’t technically there. He was….there adjacent.

His shadows trembled at his inaction as he observed the monster’s progress. They hated the being before them with an intensity that surprised him. 

_You haven't seen,_ they hissed, causing the very air to shiver. _You didn’t hear the screams, taste the blood on the air. So many little bodies tossed uncaringly into unmarked pits._

“Boy! Come out boy! Your mother isn’t coming back and you won't last a night on the hill alone.” 

_You must stop them_ , his shadows whispered. Jaskier watched the monster’s face as it stomped, scowling. It peered angrily into bushes and yelled again for the child to reveal itself.

_Kill it, kill it and all it’s kin._

“Child come out. Accept your fate. Your mother has abandoned you and it's time to choose. Come with me and you might just live. Stay here and die on the mountain tonight. I will not wait any longer.” 

Jaskier took one last, long look at the monster. Its eyes were hard, no pitty for the boy abandoned to torture by those who should have loved him and raised him. The monster is here to collect fodder for their twisted experiments, if the shadows and whispers are to be believed.

Jaskier always believes his beloved friends.

He won't deny them. 

He steps out into the human realm, keen eyes catching the full bodied flinch just before it was stilled by years of training and experience. Truely, the monster before him was a predator, old and cunning.

It wouldn't save him from justice at the hands of the darkness. 

Jaskier’s many arms and inhuman speed contained the monster easily, the man-creature twisting and snarling as it attempted to claw free its weapons. Steel and silver, two blades that bespoke some familiarity with the creatures it usually feasted on. But both were nothing to Jaskier or the shadows that pushed themselves down the monster’s throat, smothering any calls for help or words of magic it might try to invoke. 

Slowly, Jaskier dragged his claws down the monster, over and over till it’s hard outer shell of leather and metal was shredded, and the creature shook from blood loss and pain. 

“Hmmm. No challenge at all. Yet a full keep of such monsters might prove annoying.” He eyed the trapped beast warely, giving into temptation and licking his claws clean. Delicious. He wanted more, and it gave him a rather good idea. 

“How loyal are your pack, I wonder?” 

Loyal enough to trickle down in two’s and three's at the sound of their kin’s death-screams, it turned out.

Jaskier was tickled pink to have caught and ended more than a half dozen of the monsters (and in two particularly tempting cases consumed raw, unable to resist such large meals still warm from the kill. He never claimed to be a paragon of restraint, as the now mostly spotless pile of bones that belonged to the first monster would show. The first one had been the plumpest of the bunch, but the fifth had been deliciously spiced with some sort of aromatic oil). 

He had just enough time to be fairly sure that no more would so easily stumble into his trap, the screams and moans of his final kills having petered out into silence almost an hour past with no sign of approaching rescue, before his whispers came spinning and flitting back to him with news. 

The child was awake. 

He hesitated, the remains of the now dead monsters (and the disgusting clothing that was all that remained of his snacks) were strewn about the trees, dripping wetly from branches and piled in heaps on the ground. When more monsters got the courage to come investigate, no doubt better prepared than their kin had been, they would only have evidence of a slaughter. There was little that could link these deaths back to that of the fae. He was, after all, a creature of mostly non corporeal darkness and his claws, which though awe inspiring and magnificent, were somewhat generic to the more animal creatures that inhabited this realm. Even if they did think to arm themselves against fae, there was no way to fight literal darkness.

He glanced down at his own clothes, clicking his teeth in disapproval. He had been quite enthusiastic about his meal, and it showed. With a simple flexation of his being he rid himself of the grime and viscera, all of it falling to the earth as he left the human world behind. He felt a surprising warmth in his stomach that had nothing to do with the blood and meat currently sloshing around pleasantly inside him. No, he was excited. 

It had been an age since he had actually had the chance to converse with a human child. Of late the fae of other courts had become more wary of stepping into the human realm and causing their mischief so directly. And he had been focusing his wrath on stopping those he already knew to have a taste for tormenting children before they got their hands on new prey. But he remembered with fondness the few times he had managed to slaughter his way into the heart of the winter court, and in doing so had met and freed several children who had been stolen. They had been delightful. Their minds sadly already mostly gone from unknown years spent serving the court, they hadn’t the presence of mind to fear his blood soaked claws or looming, dark disposition. 

Which reminded him, he should probably tuck away a few arms so as not to startle the poor child. First impressions are most important after all.

He flew along the dark forest paths, eager to greet his charge. For that’s what the child must be, if the monster’s words and the evidence of his own eyes was to be believed. He would have to ask questions eventually, but for their first meeting it would not do to upset the child by mentioning his traitorous parents or whatever mage whisked him away to such an awful fate. 

At the edge of the glade he paused, forcing his excitement back and focusing on his physical form. Not much could be done about his size. He knew from past attempts that even restricting his form down to man height wouldn’t bring his proportions to something more human. But children were so much more accepting of such things. The last ones he met had just giggled dreamily, chanting in singsong rhymes about the slender slender man from the dark dark land. The poor things were addled, but at least they felt no fear. He had played them music long into the night, even as they began to wither and drop, the magic of their fae kidnappers leaving them as ancient and long gone as they should have been. It had been a lovely evening.

He wondered if this boy would enjoy his music too. It had been an age since he had played and danced for an audience.

Splashing and the high pitched rambling of a story being told lead Jaskier to the child. The boy was poking at some foliage that floated on the top of the pond with a stick, chattering to himself about a mermaid and a fisherman in a story he was clearly was inventing as he went along. But catching sight of Jaskier at the edge of the trees the boy halted his story with a surprised gasp.

“Who are you?” The boy asked, pointing his stick at the fae accusingly. “Stay back!”

“Oh dear.” Jaskier tried to appear unthreatening, making sure to only hold out his two regular hands beseechingly to show he carried no weapons. “I see you are well armed. Well met young sir. But there is no need for violence! I am the….master of this land.” He winced internally, but his confusion and bumbling over his own title did not seem to put the child off.

“Like some sort of lord?” The boy asked, suddenly unsure and bringing his free hand up to his mouth nervously. “You’re a noble?”

“Hmmm, in a manner of speaking I suppose. But I prefer to think of it as simply being the master of my own house.”

“But there's no house here?” The child eagerly approached, story and play forgotten in the face of company. “I checked really hard! I was looking for my ma, but she was gone and I had to leave the water bucket because it was too heavy. I'm not supposed to mess with adult tools but she said I was big enough to fetch the water all by myself!” He said, puffing up proudly as Jaskier gave an impressed nod along. But then the boy slumped, fingers slipping back toward his mouth as the scent of saltwater grew. “And-and I couldn’t find her anywhere. I looked real hard. She must have wandered off and gotten lost.” He finished, voice slightly slurred from where he was biting his knuckles, and Jaskier couldn't help but coo over the child. It was adorable. He sounded so cross, obviously parroting back a reprimand he had been given many times himself. How anyone could abandon any child, much less such a cute one was beyond Jaskier. The woman didn’t deserve the boy, and Jaskier was starting to suspect that sorceress would be on the menu soon, if her actions were any indication. 

“No house you say?” He said, hoping to distract the child from his missing mother. He wondered how old the boy was. Certainly not old enough to be fetching water alone anywhere in the monster infested human realm. Maybe he would kill the mother slowly. If the monsters would have tortured and killed the child then she was just as accountable for offering up her boy to such a fate. With a side long look a few shadows slipped off gleefully to track the woman down. 

“Well young master, I think perhaps you were looking a little too hard, if you couldn’t see that you have been in my home all along!”

The boy looked at him incredulously, giving an exaggerated look up at the sky, then over at the trees, before sweeping his gaze back as if to ask what the heck was wrong with Jaskier’s eyes. 

Jaskier cooed again, sending the whispers vibrating with chaos. The child was adorable! 

“Ah. I can see you are a bright boy. Indeed there is no house per say, no roof over our heads,” Jaskier was really getting into it now, emboldened by the child’s lack of fear. The horrified screams of dying fae and monsters was enjoyable in its own way, but the innocent interest and easy acceptance of children was intoxicating. How his cousins ever thought to harm such happy little things for entertainment was beyond him.

“I’m a bit different than most people, you see. My home is the forest, my family the shadows and wind through the trees!”

The boy giggled, his hand dropping from his anxious sucking back to his stick as he was distracted by Jaskier’s over the top performance. 

“That’s silly. Shadows aren't family.”

“Are you quite sure? I've been told I look very much like a shadow myself.” He said, giving himself a comical look up and down.

“Hmm.” The boy looked him over, critically. “You are kind of black and stretchy. Are you a shadow man?”

“Something very close,” Jaskier agreed. The boy was clever, or at least old enough to not be completely stuck in his own head. Younger children were less likely to care what he was, and cared more about what he could do for them.

“But here’s a secret,” he said, and the boy leaned in eagerly. “Shadows make for the best friends. They are always closest to you, and they can protect you from any danger.”

“Did you do that?” The boy was looking up at him with an intensity that might have made Jaskier blush, if anatomy allowed it. “It was really hot on the path, and I was so tired and thirsty. And then it was cool and I fell asleep.” He trailed off, pondering this, and Jaskier longed to pet the child’s head until whatever was troubling him fell away. He had such long, soft looking hair, chestnut brown flecked through with red when the sun hit just right, luring him in to touch as if he were a common magpie.

“Did you protect me?”

Jaskier blinked at the earnestness of the boy’s question. He got the feeling the boy was asking something more meaningful than words suggested, but he was at a loss to interpret the little human’s nuance. Perhaps he would be allowed the time to learn. 

“I suppose I did,”Jaskier said, and he actually gave full consideration to his next words. How odd, to be so concerned about the opinion of such a small creature. “I think, if you are agreeable, I could continue to protect you.”

“Hmm.” The boy only mumbled at the offer, but he seemed pleased, and Jaskier almost let out an actual breath in relief. “But what about ma?”

Jaskier tilted his head, weighing his answers. He could not lie to the child, he was fae enough for that much to stick. But children were easily distracted. 

“I haven’t seen anyone’s mother around today, but I will have my friends check. Grown ups are often so busy they would forget their heads if they weren’t attached to their bodies!”

The child seemed content with this, although Jaskier wondered if he would remain so.

“I’m hungry.” The child announced, finally decided on the topic of Jaskier’s company and bored of the conversation. “If I’m staying then you gotta get a real house! Where do we cook food?”

“Cook eh? I suppose that’s important for little humans,” Jaskier said, brow furrowing and arms gesticulating as he began to plan. “Tell you what, I have some fresh meat already,” the monsters had tasted normal enough to him so he didn’t think it would hurt the child if they cooked it well, “If you can follow the whispers over to that corner I think there are some potatoes and things like that in the dirt. We could attempt to cook something up.”

The boy frowned, then reached up to take his hand —one of his extra hands. Jaskier held his breath, but the boy didn't seem to notice anything amis. “I don't want to go alone.”

Reasonable, for a child that had literally been abandoned to death only hours before. Jaskier felt a shiver run up his back, disappointed in himself already. He needed to do better, or he would be no better than those he hunted. 

Carefully, he gave the little hand a squeeze. “Of course. I would be happy to show you the plants myself. We can pick them together if you like?”

The child nodded, and Jaskier realized there was something else he had forgotten in his eagerness to have the child safe and with him. “What is your name, child? I can't just call you boy in my head forever.” 

“Im Geralt. And your name? I can't just keep calling you the slender man in my head forever either!” Geralt said, unaware of the surge of chaos as Jaskier plucked the child's name from the air, to be hoarded away in his collection of power.

“I’m Jaskier.” A title as close to and yet far from his true name as possible. “And it is a pleasure to meet you Geralt. I shall rely on you to educate me on things such as proper houses with roofs, if you will allow me to teach you the ways of my home in return.”

The boy, Geralt —his boy now and likely forever — laughed like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. “You talk really weird. I can’t believe you dont even know about houses! I guess I can stay a while and teach you. I bet there’s lots of stuff you dont know, if you didnt even know about roofs.”

“Oh yes. You may have to stay a long while to teach me. I’m afraid I haven’t been out and about much, so there’s likely many things I do not know.”

The boy nodded in relief, and launched once more into his story about the mermaid, never once minding that more than two hands guided him around the vegetable plot as they gathered food for supper.

**Author's Note:**

> Tbc with many parts already in the works so do please subscribe to the series if you want to see more. (*youtuber voice* And smash that like button! Comment and subscribe!) 
> 
> Come talk to me at ambersagen.tumblr


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